Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 November 1885 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

A prize-fight is called a "mill," but prize-fighters are not millers.—Brooklyn Times. The road to wealth is crowded with the men who are turning back.- - White Hall Times. “Has he any expensive habits?” “He has one rather expensive one that I know of.” “What is it?” “Eating.”— Chicago Ledger. The philosopher who kindly measures other men s pecks out of his own bushel never had any quartz in his heart.— Barbers' Gazette. Doctor—“ Now tell me, Colonel, how do you feel when you’ve killed a man?” Colonel—Oh, very well, thank you, Doctor, how do you?”— London Punch* To speak of Sitting Bull as a coward is absurd. He faced a Washington boarding house existence for a fortnight and never turned a hair. — Pall Biver Advance. “A Pennsylvania woman peeled 200 cords of bark last year.” Of course she skinned sausages in a restaurant, but why did she let ’em bark ?—Newman Independent. A man suffers deeply, no doubt, when bis honor is stung, but he generallv makes more fuss about it when he gets it fresh from the furnace on the end of his nose.— Chicago Ledger. It is only when vacation arrives that people discover the latent possibilities in the small boy, For instance, the success he can achieve in making those around him miserable.— Boston Courier. It won’t do to bank too mvich on the fellow with the fine suit. In nine cases out of ten, the hayseed, as he is called, has more in the pockets of his fourdollar suit than you could find in fifty dude suits.— Evansville Argus. “The old poets used to spend a whole •week over a single line.” Slow old curmudgeons. In these days the writer who cannot work off a couple of columns of straight lying a day isn’t worth his salt.— St. Paul Herald. A poet says: “There is always sunrise somewhere.” It is a refreshing thought that, although it may be midday here, there is a spot somewhere on this earth where overworked man is urging his wife to get up to make the fires and prepare the breakfast, while he takes a fresh snooze.— Norristown Herald. When an Indian is caught “throwing” a horse-race or playing dirt on a fair race in any other manner, he is turned over to the squaws to be switched and pelted and degraded. The white jockey is complimented for his cuteness.—Detroit Free Press. “You know old man Stinger,” said a stranger in Austin to Bill Swizler; “he seems to be quite wealthy. Is he a man of much means?” “A man of much means!” replied Bill. “Well, I should say so. He has the reputation of being the meanest man in Travis County.”— Texas Siftings. A Western telegraph editor astonished his readers by flaming head lines to the effect that forty-five lives had been destroyed the night before by lightning. He explained later that five cats on the back-yard fence had been hurled into eternity by a thunderbolt. — Merchant Traveler. “Women,” says the Yonkers Gazette, “are becoming adepts in the use of the tonsorial tool called the razor, but they cut deeper than the average barber.” True, but they apply a cobweb to a wound with a delicacy and tenderness of touch and with so much solicitude in their glances, that one feels honored and delighted at having been out by them.— Boston Courier. He was young and tender. He opened the door and gazed long and furtively at the clerk, and finally choking down a sob, he said: “Say, Mister, has Kate been in here this morning?” The clerk looked at him for a moment and asked, “What Kate?” Then with a smile such as you receive from the man who sells you a glass of red lemonade at the circus, he answered, “Boiler’s Kate.” — Carl Pretzel’s Weekly. A joke on its hind legs stood one da#-, And thus to a passing dude did say: “Don’t you -want to laugh? I’m something new.” “Nary a laugh,” said the dude; “for you I’m quite a new thing, but you are old, They’re all embalmed who first heard you told • Yet you keep booming, day after day, Though none can see what you want to say. You’re pnly great by way of a squint, I’ve seen you a thousand .times in print. I’ve banged and hammered, hammered and banged, To find out your drift, but I’ll be hanged If I can see one morsel of fun Since the first day you began to run. Columbus found out the land of puns, But all small pistols are not great guns. What! the trouble is In my poor brain? It may be so, but one thing is plain, As far as laughing goes with the folks, New dudes are better than musty jokes.” * MOBAL. Don’t wait for the “rattle" to run from snakes, Or judge of a man by the noise he makes. Yonker's Gazette.